


Almost a Winchester

by firelady_zutara



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Flirty!Dean, Hunting, John's an Asshole, aggressive!Dean, dead mother - Freeform, emotional and physical hurt, father dies, growing up with the Winchester boys, reader get hurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-06-01 17:11:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6528718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firelady_zutara/pseuds/firelady_zutara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You couldn't remember, when or where you met the Winchesters for the first time. Your Dad always told you that John was a close friend of his, when they were younger. The both men, John and your dad Stephen, and the two boys, little Sammy and Dean, were your family. The only family you had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fanfic. You are free to point out any kind of mistake as long as your critic is constructive. English is not my native language, so I apologize in advance for typos, grammar mistakes, etc.

You couldn't remember, when or where you met the Winchesters for the first time. Your Dad always told you that John was a close friend of his, when they were younger. The both men, John and your dad Stephen, and the two boys, little Sammy and Dean, were your family. The only family you had.  
Just like the Winchesters your parents were hunters. Well your father still was, but your mom... well John told you that Cathrine was possesed by a demon. Your dad had to kill her. He exorcised the demon and your mother died, due to her wounds. You always were told that it was better that way. But you couldn't help but to wish you had a mother.  
So you grew up with Dean, who was just a few months older then you, and his little brother Sammy. Your dads went on hunting trips and left you three in a probably-safe motel, where you were watching cartoons, sleeped curled together and waited for the both men to come back.

Years passed, you helped the men with doing research on what and where to hunt and John taught you to handle a gun. You and Dean took care of Sammy, who was now a chubby faced, shaggy haired teen. Dean and you really tried to keep life for Sammy as normal as possible, whenever your dads let you stay at a place for more than a few days you took care that Sammy was going to school. You always somehow managed to get him safe to school and back. Dean didn't really care about School, but you dragged him along, whenever you went to school.

You were in this town for almost half a year now. Your dads just stopped by to check in on you in between hunts, and you were free to do your own thing. You were almost able to ignore the things that went bump in the night, and pretended to be a regular teen. Dean had gotten a parttime job at a local garage and you worked parttime after school in a dinner.

It was a normal, rainy summer day, as you sat in School, doodling all over your notes. As the bell rang, you quickly went to meet up with Dean. Just as you took a seat on the stairs infront of the schoolbuilding your phone rang.

The number on the Display didn't belong to one of your friends. With trembling fingers and fear in your heart you grabbed the old phone. Neither John, nor dad, nor Dean ever called you. John only called you one time. When your dad nearly died...  
Your hands shaked so violently you could bareley pick up the call.  
"Y/N! Grab Sam and come to the motel! NOW!" barked John Winchester at the other end of the line.  
You answered with a short "Yes sir!" and started running like hell to grab Sammy.

"I'm sorry to interrupt!" you said, short of breath, after you stormed into the classroom, "But I have to pick up my brother Sam Winchester!" You explained to the teacher. She was a nice Lady, who 'knew' you were from a 'difficult' Family. The Boys and you went with a lie, and had told her, that your mother was very ill. So naturally she pitied the three of you and let Sammy leave the class earlier.  
Sam started immedeatly packing his things into the little, colourful backpack you bought for him from your first paycheck to replace the dusty old... Thing he used beforehand. The teacher nodded and told you to just leave.  
With more force then actually needed you grabbed Sammys arm and paced back to the motel. Dragging Sammy, who had Trouble keeping up with you, behind.  
"Y/N what's up? I was reading!" Sammy complained.  
You groweld. Sometimes you could really kick Sammys oblivios ass. "John called and ordered me, to pick you up. Hurry now!"  
The pitch-black Impala, John drove was parked right in front of your room.  
With gentle force you pushed the boy into the room.

That was, when you saw John... crying.  
You couldn't help but stare at this very unusual sight. With a soft push you made Sammy go to his elder brother, who was in the second room and sat on the bed. Dean looked weaker and younger than ever bevor.  
"I'm gonna talk to John..." you whispered and told Sammy to do his reading.

Quietly you walked to John, who was sitting on the edge of the small bed. "John," you wispered, "where is dad?" Afraid that you might already know the answer you sat down next to the hunter.  
"I'm so sorry, Y/N." he said weakly, "But Stephen... the werewolf had bitten him... I... I had to... He begged me,"  
Tears started dwelling in your eyes.

  
John assured you, that he made your fathers death as fast as possible. A quick shot between the eyes.  
"I need to breath. 'Going outside. Just a few steps." you stuttered. Neither John nor the boys were to see your tears.  
Outside the motel you collapsed behind the Impala. Uncontrollably sobbing.

  
A few minutes passed and you heard the door of the motel room open. "Hey, Y/N... loosing a parent is hard." Dean said and kneeled next to you.  
"Please, Dee leave me alone!" you pleaded.  
The boy didn't move an inch.  
"Dean, I mean it! Leave!" you spit out, smearing your tears away.  
The elder just looked at you and sneaked an arm around your lean shoulders. "Won't leave you, Kitty." he said calmly.  
You couldn't help but to relaxe a bit in the taller ones embrace. Dean always looked out for you and Sammy. And his side was always somewhat of a safe harbour for you. So you allowed it. You let the elder sit silently next to you and tried to relax. Even though tears were still rolling down your face.  
After what felt like hours you stood up and scrubbed your face with the edge of your shirt. "We have to get back inside, bevor John worries." you said seriously and put a loose strand of your hair back inside your ponytail.  
Dean just nodded. "Feel better a bit?" he asked with a worried expression on his face.  
"Sure." you lied and forced a smile on your face, bevor you went back into the room.

  
John was already packing his things and told you and Dean to go and grab your stuff. "We're gonna hit the road!" he said and shoved a few of his books into a large bag.  
"What?" you asked blatantly, "We still have to kill..."  
"No!" John interrupted you, "I will kill that thing, but before that I bring you three to Bobby. You'r not gonna stay here!"  
Your sadness turned instantly to anger. "You can't shove us around like that!" you screamed in the high pitched voice of the fourteen year old girl you were, "I wanna kill this thing! It killed my father!"  
John glanced furiosly at you. "Y/N! You gonna do what I said! Pack your things! Now!" he growled and pushed you to the door which lead to the other room.  
Angrily you hit the hunters hand. "No!" you screamed at the top of your lungs, "It killed dad, I wanna kill the fuck out of it!"  
John was still seemingly angry, but he didn't look like he was going to whoop your ass. He looked surprised and shook his head slowly. "It's to dangerous. Your father wouldn't want that!" he told you, trying to keep calm.  
"He wouldn't want to be dead." you answered coldly.

Sammy was sleeping in his safetyseat on the seat next to the driver. You and Dean were both wide awake, but non of you dared to make a sound. John was driving. Far to fast.  
After all your struggle John just told Dean to get you inside the car and hit the road.  
Even after Dean apologized a thousand times you still wasn't able to forgive him that he just lifted you up his shoulder and carried you, ignoring your kicks and shouting, to the Impala.  
That was ten hours ago. You still refused to talk to him, or even acknowledge his existence.

It was late afternoon the next day, when John parked in front of a dumpyard. "We're at Bobbys. Stay in the car. I'll be back in a few minutes." he said. Those were Johns first words, since we left the motel yesterday.  
After half an hour John came back with a men.  
"So these are the three?" he asked.  
John nodded. "My two boys and the Masons-girl." he gestured at me. "Y/N is stubborn. So watch out for her." John explained. "Get out of the car, kids!"  
Dean and Sammy quickly followed his order, but you refused to move. "I'm"  
"Getting out of the car!" interrupted John and pulled you out of the car, holding you on your arm.  
Dean quickley unloaded your bags and shoulderd his and Sammys. "C'mone! Y/N, it's no use." he pleaded exhausted.  
Bobby looked down to you and placed a warm, careful hand on your shoulder. "It's okay kiddo. John'll deal with that thing. Come on in. I've ordered you guys pizza."  
Still grumpy you sat at the table with the two boys and ate your pizza. Bobby managed to order your favourite pizza and in fact, you were starving hungry. The three of you didn't talk. Not even Sammy, who was always chatting, said a word.

After you finished your pizza you stood up and went to search Bobby. You had to explain him, why you couldn't stay at his place.

After your talk with Bobby, who stayed unlike John, very calm, he sent you to a room in wich you and the boys could sleep 'till he was able to clean a room for you.  
You threw yourself onto the queensized bed, where Dean was already reading, while Sammy played with his toys.  
"He won't let you go?" Dead stated. It wasn't a real question. The elder already knew the answer. "Hey Kitty, just relax and wait. Dad's gonna kill the bitch!"  
You just nod and cover your face in the pillows, trying not to cry. "I know John's gonna deal with the thing, but I" your voice brook and you shook your head.

After the boys fell asleep you quickly grabbed your stuff and sneaked out into the living room, where your fathers hunting bag was. Outside of the house you wired a car and started it. Even though you were merely fifteen you could drive quite good due to the fact that your father taught you.  
You flinched as the motor howeld. You knew that the boys or at least Bobby should wake up by it. As fast as possible you drove off. As soon as you hit the road you speeded back to the town where that thing killed your dad.

It took you nearly three days to reach the town and another to find the house where you knew John and your dad were trying to kill it.  
But what you found inside the rundown house wasn't a monster. It was worse.  
A furious John Winchester awaited you. "Y/N! I told you to stay at Bobbys! What were you thinking? Just run away and kill a werewolf on your own? The boys are worried-sick and so was I!"  
John grabbed you and half pulled half carried you to the Impala, which was parked behind the house.  
Next afternoon he dropped you at Bobbys and threatened you, if you dared to run away again, he would put you in an orphanage.

Bobby on the ofther side, showed actual understandness and told you not to worry. But he also told you not to run away again.  
Again Bobby ordered Pizza.  
The boys weren't at Bobbys place, but he informed you, they would be home in the late evening.  
Hungryly you basically absorbed the pizza and then watched TV with the elder man.

The next morning you awoke on the couch buried  in warm and soft blankets. Confused you pushed yourself up and swung off the couch.  
You heard muffeled noises from the kitchen and slowly walked towards the blissfull smell of scrambled eggs and bacon. "Hey guys." you muttered and shyly approached Bobby and the boys.  
Sammy instantly jumped to his feet and ran towards you. "Y/N!" he screamed exited and hugged you, "Where have you been?"  
You looked down to the younger boy. "Well, I... uhm" you stuttered.  
"She ran away to kill the werewolf. Am I right, Y/N?" Dean snapped at you, "I am right, am I?"  
He stood up and wanted to come around the table, but Bobby held him back. "Sit down, kiddo!" he ordered.  
You looked at Dean shooked. Of course he must have been worried about you, but you never thaught he could get that angry. Dean turned his head to face Bobby and answer but you gasped and pushed Sam away to get to Dean. Dean who looked as if he has been hit. Dean whose left facehalf was blue and purple and whose left eye was swollen.  
"Oh my... what happened, Dean?" you gasped and approached the boy. You put your hand on the good side of his face to inspect his wounds. Or at least you tried.  
Dean swatted your hand away and growled. "Don't you dare touching me!" the look an the older boys face made you flinch away, afraid he might actually hit you, if you didn't stay away from him.

You spent your day outside of the house in the junkyard. Hiding from the boys and crying.  
You only got back into the house as it stated raining cats and dogs outside, just to turn minutes later into a thunderstorm.  
You always hated thunderstorms. You knew it was a childish fear, especially when you considered, that there were far more dangerous Things than stupid thunderstorms. But still. You just despised thunderstorms.  
Shaking you were laying under the blankets of the bed in the room you still had to share with the boys, when you heard the door open with a small creak. "Y/N? You in here?" you heard Deans voice.  
Surprised you looked out under the blankets and nodded.  
Dean sighed and came to sit on the bed. "Thunderstorms. Your nemesis..." he chuckled, "Mind some company?"  
Still shaking you just grabbed his hand and tried to relax, but the crashing sounds of the storm outside made it impossible for you to calm down.  
Without any words the older boy crawled under the blankets and held you tight in his arms.  
Even though he probably hated you at the moment he still was the caring older brother he always was for you and Sam. You clutched to the fabric of his shirt. "I'm sorry." you muttered and covered your face in the warm fabric over his torso.  
Dean didn't answer, but made soothing noises and somehow you both drifted off.

During the next days, weeks, months and years it got a habit of you two sleeping together, limbs tangled up, Dean always holding out one hand to reach for Sammy.  
You never really thought that this habit might occure odd to ofther people. You just enjoyed Deans warm body, his arm around you, his calm and steady breath. His scent. A bit musky with a touch of gunpowder, leather and cinnamon.  
There was nothing better for you, after an exhausting day, then to curl up in bed with Dean.

Time passed and you both grew older. You both were young adults, hunting alongside John or taking care of Sam, who slowly out-grew you. The sixteen-year-old boy looked down on you like you were the child. But his outwards appearance couldn't fool you. For you he'd always be that small, chubby, shaggy-haired baby-boy.


	2. Chapter 2

It was past midnight and Dean drove the two of you back to the motel you were currently living at. You two just succeded your first mission without John. You were dirty, exhausted, covered in graveyard-earth and ash, and unbelievable proud of your selfs.  
"Hey Dean," you jawned, "You think John'll let us go on our own missions now?" you asked tired, eyes almost shut.  
The young man behind the wheel huffed. "Dunno. Maybe. Probably only easy cases." He also jawned.  
"Shall I drive for a change?"  
"Nah, just rest a bit, Y/N. You look tired. Don't want you to crash my car." Dean chuckled.  
"The Impala's not 'your car' it's ours! John told us to share!" you answerd grumpyly and crossed your arms in front of your slim not very feminine body.  
Dean just chuckled in his low, exhausted voice. "Yeah dad told us to share, but you lost the bet, so I won it!"  
You just rolled your eyes. "Wake me, when it's my turn. Won't let you drive all night and day!" with a big jawn you leaned against the window to your right and closed your eyes to fall into a dizzy sleep.

As you expected Dean didn't wake you. So you had to force him to stop at the side of the road at dawn and changed seats.  
"Sleep a bit, yeah Dean?" you said and looked worried at the young man. The young man who took care for you and his teenage-brother but failed miserably at taking care for himself.  
"Shuttup." he muttered already half asleep before he leaned back in the passenger seat.  
You shook your head, surpressing the urge to call him out on his shitty behauviour towards himself.  
It didn't even took Dean a minute to fall asleep and guilty you thought how tired he must have been. Sure he was used to the lack of sleep he had due to the 'family buisness' but it wasn't healthy. What if he collapsed someday? Broke under the pressure and expectations his father constantly set. You knew, you couldn't do this without Dean. The boys were your family. Dean was your family.

You reached the motel in the late afternoon. Dean was still sitting in the passenger seat and also had stopped bashing your driving-skills. You knew that Dean was the better driver, but you also knew that you wouldn't get a ticket for speeding or get in a carexident.  
You stopped on the yard and got out of the car. "See? Safe and fast." you smiled and threw the keys to Dean, who cought them out of the air.  
He just rolled his eyes but kept silent. With his typical bow-legged walk he approached the motel room and longed for his phone. "Gotta call dad." he said and dialed.  
"Sure," you nodded, "I'll call Sammy to check if everythings alright."

After the two of you finished your calls you sank sharply exhaling onto the bed. "Dammit Dean, you need to work at your aim. That bastard could've killed me!" you complained, turning so that you were lying on the flat of your back and stared at the ceiling.  
Dean didn't move.  
Suspicious you looked up to him and sat steaight when you recognised that creepy look on his face. "Hey, dude, what did John say?" you asked worried, tilting your head.  
The young man just shook his head. "'Not allowed to tell you." he answered uncomfy, shifting from one leg to another.  
Your worried expression changed to anger. "Dammit Dean! You always tell me everything! What did John say? Where is he?" your tone was almost begging.  
Dean, your big brother, your best friend, your ally, had an almost painful expression on his oftherwise kind of pretty face. "Dad forbade me giving you the information." the brave litte, obedient soldier said.  
You stood up and paced trough the small room. "Is it a case? A hunt?" you asked nervous. You didn't understand what kind of information John would give to Dean but not to you. "C'mone! I won't tell John! I promise!" you said and held up your pinky.  
Dean sighed and looked at your pinky. "Promise me, not doing anything stupid!" he demanded.  
You rolled your eyes, normally it was you who had to make sure, Dean didn't do anything stupid. But still you nodded. "I promise. Now spit it out!" you demanded.

Dean told you to sit down and you did so. Nervously waiting for every piece of information, John gave him.  
A few minutes later you were still looking up at Dean. But now not nervous anymore. You were shooked. "No!" you breathed and stared at Dean, "John made a mistake! Must've!" you clamated, tears dwelling in your eyes.  
Quickly you stood up and turned away from the young man. Wiping away your tears you stood there and tried to breath stadily. "John made a mistake! He killed him! He's dead!" you couldn't believe what Dean just said. "We have to"  
"Stay put!" interrupted Dean and placed a hand on your shoulder. "I know it's hard for you, but you just can't run off alone!"  
You turned around to face Dean. _Screw it!_ you thaught and wiped away your tears. "I have to check if it is him or not. If your not coming with me it is okay, but don't tell John!"

An hour later you stood on the side of the road, alone but with your hunting equipment, and waited for someone to take you to the town.  
Dean said, he would wait at the motel, like it was arranged with John. If his father was at Dean's before you got back, he would have to lie and play the innocent.

A day later you got there and started gathering information.  
You soon find out what was haunting the place. Unlike John feared it wasn't your dad who got turned into a werewolf. But it kinda was your dad. A sick, twisted version of the man you knew years ago.  
In the end it was just a quick 'salt and burn'. Except it were the remains of your father and his bolongings you had to burn, while he tried to kill you, so you two 'would never ever be parted'. Watching everything left of your father burn was much more painfull then you expected it to be.

Even though you got back to the motel after merely three days, John must've been faster than you thaught.  
Dean's room was empty.  
But John had left you a note at the receiption.

_Didn't Dean told you to stay put? I taught you guys to obey, didn't I? So how dare you, ignoring a direct order. **Stay put. Wait for me. Don't do anything dumb.** Was that so hard?_   
_You remember, what I told you when you ran away last time? I told you, I'd put you in an orphanage. Well, you're to old for an orphanage now, but I don't wanna see you again. You're no longer a part of this family. I'm so sick of taking care of you stubborn litte trouble-maker! Get lost! Stay away from my boys._

You stared at John's handwriting, barely able to understand. Tears started dwelling in your eyes, as you realised, what this note meant.  
The woman at the reception looked at you with that horrible _Oh, honey-_ look in her eyes. You wondered, if she had read it. If she knew, what John just told you on a frickin' piece of paper. He took the last remains of what felt like a family.

You drove off with a stray car you wired and drove till you were nearly passing out of exhaustion. A few hundred miles across the states you decided to spend the night at a nearby motel, John taught you and the boys as a 'safe place'.  
"Mrs. Will?" you approached the woman at the counter.  
She looked at you in annoyance. "Girl, didn't you read the 'no vacant' sign?" she asked grumpy.  
You nodded with your typical half-smile. "I know, but I thought, there was always a little space for _one of us_." you zited her own words towards you, when you and Dean were here last time.  
It took her a few seconds to recognise you. "Oh god, Y/N! Is it really you?" she jumped at you and pulled you into a motherly hug, "Honey, where are the boys?"  
She must have seen the painful look on your eyes as you turned away from her.  
"Oh no! Did something happen to Dean and Sammy? Please tell me, they're okay!" she pleaded horrified.  
You nodded slowly. "I assume they are okay. They are with John. So they should be okay." you answered slowly, not able to look at the old Mrs. Will.

She put you down in her private rooms and let you tell your story.  
"Oh my darling! Everythings gonna be alright. I'm gonna call John and tell him to pick you up at my place! Rest a bit. You look so exhausted. Girl you need to rest!" she said, forcing a soft blanket around your lean body and pushing you onto the couch.  
You wanted to tell her, not to call John. But she already left to make this call.  
Half an hour later she stormed back inside the room. Within seconds you were wide awake. "What did he say?" you asked trembling.  
Mrs. Will shook her head. "I'm gonna kill that bastard!" she spat out, "Leaving you such a note! Honey, you can stay at my place as long as you want to!" she offered you.  
Greatful you accepted.

Years passed and Mrs. Will treated you like her own. In her motel she ran kind of an agency for hunters. People with problems came to her. She send a hunter or two.  
It took a while to get her to trust you enough to go on hunts on your own, but once back in the buisness news spread how Stephen's babygirl was actually a frickin' bomb killing supernatural beings as if it was nothing. Well it wasn't nothing for you, but some hunters still thought of you as a 'badass hunter girl'. Whenever you met new hunters they seemed to know more about you than you wished them to. Stephen was well respected and most of the hunters treated you with the same respect they would have treated him.

Eight years after John threw you out, Mrs. Will got a call from a close friend of her. A hunter who needed help with a Wendigo. You decided to come to this poor guys rescue and hit the road not even an hour after Mrs. Will got the call.  
You reached the Wendigo's forest at sunrise and meet up with the hunter, who was surprised that a girl was send to help him, but he caught himself, when you introduced yourself.  
After a quick chat between the two of you, you two went to take down the Wendigo.  
You always loved hicking, but this was just plain awful. Carrying your hunt-stuff across a frickin' forest was the worst.

The man didn't seem to be a hunter for long. Ofterwise he wouldn't have messed up your protective circle and the Wendigo woldn't have been able to catch you at the most unfitting time.  
"Dammit! How could you be so stupid!" you groweld all tied up and feet barely touching the uneven floor of the cave, the Wendigo left you in.  
The man was almost crying. Part of pain, you assumed, part because you yelled at this stupid piece of shit.

Days passed and the Wenigo slowly feasted on the man. Not that you actually minded him being dead. After all it was his fault.

Then it was your turn.  
The fucker already had given you some serious injuries when he caught you, but when he approached you to feast on you, you wished you already were dead.  
It was ripping open your leg, when you heard voices coming towards you and that thing. It must've heard them too. It ran off to get himself some more victims.  
You knew that you lost to much blood due to the open wound at your leg and started feeling dizzy. "HERE!" you tried to scream, but you didn't think whoever was there, could help or at least hear you.  
Your vision blurred and you felt yourself slipping into inconsisiousness.

You were sure this was heaven. The sound of an 67' Chevy' Impala. The scents you were missing for far to long.  
But one thing didn't fit into your vision of a heaven. Your leg was hurting. Son-of-a-bitch-hurting. And your head feelt like someone smashed a hammer on your temple.  
You tried to open your eyes just to be blended by far to bright light.  
"Fuck." you moaned horse.  
You heard the breaks of the car and strong arms held you, before you drove head first out of the front shield. The all to sudden movement left you with tears of pain in your half closed eyes. Voices were busily chatting and from time to time you heard your name.  
Without really realising who your saviours were, you drifted off again.

The next time you woke up, you was draped in warmblankets. You couldn't remember this room but somehow it seemed familiar to you. You couldn't describe it but something about this room remembered you of... home.  
Curious you tried to get out of the bed, which was not as easy as you expected it would be. Your leg still hurt but was covered under a thick layer of bandages. After a quick check you had to realise that nearly half of your body was covered in stitches, bandages or adhesive tape.  
Wondering who saved you from the Wendigo and got you all patched up, you decided to search for someone.  
You laughed still as you saw your hunting equipment laying directly at your bed and picked up a gun. How could anyone be so dumb, leaving weapons unattended? You held it up and peeked out of the little room just to see a stretched floor.  
You heared footsteps and hid behind the door, back in your room.  
You calmed yourself, steadied your breath and stormed out of the room. The gun pointing directly between the eyes of the person.  
It took you a second to recognise the young, blonde men with the bright green eyes that stood, seemingly shoked, in front of you.  
Just as Dean wanted to tell you to lower your gun you flung yourself in his arms. Despite the pain this all to sudden movement send through your body, you clung yourself to his shirt and breathed in this scent you missed for almost eight years.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for abandoning my work for so long, but as I hope you all understand it was a pretty busy time for me and I just didn't found the time to write.

For a few precious heartbeats neither Dean nor you moved.

"Hey Kitty." he whispered with a voice much deeper than you remembered. Strong armes were placed around your muscular body and pulled you towards Dean's broad chest. You realised you hadn't been the only one gaining muscels. 

"Hey Dee." you replied snuggling to him as close as your aching body allowed. Deeply inhaling that scent you missed so much. Leather, gun powder, cinnamon. And Deans musk. For gods sake. This must have been heaven.

After a long hug, that seemed to try to make up for the past years of absence, the two of you parted.

"You shouldn't be out of bed, Y/N. You need to rest." Dean told you in a concerned voice, "Those injuries aren't to be ignored. If you"

You nodded andcut him off. Even though you loved how Dean always took care of you, you hated his 'scolding-parent'-voice. "Just a few scratches. I'll survive." you lied. That was a habit the both of you had in common. **Never show how hurt you are. If someone mentions wounds, you lie.**

Dean glanced at you. "Y/N. I patched you up. Those aren't  _scratches_. You nearly bleed out on the drive here! So get your ass back in bed, or I'll make you!"

You knew this wasn't the best moment to make jokes but that never bothered the two of you much. "Well, come on big boy, make me." you dared him with bedroom eyes and winked seductivley. You two had a horrible habit of joke-flirting.

Dean just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to look annoyed, but you could see the little dimples, showing he was actually going to smile. "Maybe if you're not covered in bandages. But for now, do me a favour: do as I told you and get yourself some rest. Sammy's making a run for food and will soon be back."

You nodded, knowing it was no use to discuss with a Winchester. "Sure, but I need to make a call. And would you do me a favour too?" you quickly turned your hands up and laied one on his shoulder. "I know it's much to ask. But do you remember... when we were younger we used to... I'd like too... uhm..."

Dean chuckled as he finally understood. "If that's what you want. Sure. I'll get you the telephone. Wanna drink something?"

"Do you have Orange Juice?"

Dean nodded and left with his bow-legged walk. 

A few minutes later he came back with a phone, two glasses and a bottle of orange juice. While he poured you a drink, you dialed Mrs. Will's number.

It rang twice snd a very stressed Mrs. Will picked up the phone. "WHAT?" you heard the old woman bark.

"Hey, Mrs. Will, it's me, (Y/N). I'm fine, well kinda." you quickly explained what had happened on the hunt, "Sorry, but this guy was a moron. Winchester's Boys picked me up, I'll come back as soon as I can." With that you ended the call and handed Dean his phone back. In order to avoid conversation you took a Long sip from the juice Dean had brought you.

"Soooo Kitty, you gonna tell me, why you thought hunting a fucking wendigo with an amateur was a good idea?" he asked with his horrible, husky voice.

You huffed. "Wel I didn't know that he was a rookie. Dip shit obviously didn't tell me. Last time I didn't run my own background checks on someone." carefully you rubbed the itching wounds, or at least the surrounding, healthy tissue. You couldn't remember the last time you've felt so much pain all at once. It was like every goddamn Inch of your fucking Body was either hurting like a bitch or burning or itching.

For a while Dean and you sat in silence, one of Deans arms draped around your schoulders. You didn't know what to say. "Soooo, when is Sammy comin' back? Did you already tell John that you picked me up? How mad is he?" you finally managad to talk, despite the lump in your thraot. As soon as you said the first few words the words just started spilling out of your mouth.

You couldn't quite understand the look in Deans eyes, when you mentioned his father. "We gotta do a lot of talkin'." the elder boy, young man, shook his head, "Dad died. 'bout two years ago." 

"I'm sorry for your loss." you answered shallow. You couldn't actually mourn John. You still hated that son of a bitch with all your heart. After all he took away the last remains of a family you had.

"Yeah, sure you are." Deans voice was multiple degrees colder than you were used to.

You were irritated and honestly a bit angry. "Please Dean, tell me how I could be mourning that son of a bitch. He drove me off. He took away the only family I ever had." by the end of your sentence you were almost growling.

Another Thing the two of you had in common was your horrible temper. Dean shot up, causing you to whimper in pain at the sudden movement, now screaming at you. "He didn't take anything away. He even left you a note, on how to find us! YOU didn't come home. YOU left us!" 

You were shocked. Dean had only shouted once at you. When you ran away from Bobby's. You swallowed hard. "So he told you, he left me a note, on how to find you? Well sorry Dee, but your father lied." you motioned towards your duffel bag, "The small pocket on the left hand side. _That's_ the note John left for me."

For a Moment Dean seemed to contemplate, wether he should grab the note or not. After a few seconds he finally moved an went to your duffel bag. Your eyes didn't leave the hunter for even a split second, while he read thw note with furrowed brows and tried to comprehend, what he was reading.

Before Dean could say a thing the door slammed open and Sam dashed into the room, a gun in his hand. "I heard shouting!" he exclaimed, worriedly looking towards his brother, completly ignoring you.


End file.
